


Love Actually Is All Around

by Magnolia8727



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Candy Cane Sugar, Christmas in Schitt's Creek, F/M, Inspired by Love Actually, M/M, Multi, Rose Apothecary (Schitt's Creek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28002516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolia8727/pseuds/Magnolia8727
Summary: Written for the Schitt's Creek Holiday Festive Fic Swap 2020!Prompt: A Love Actually AUThe opening of Love Actually always made David sentimental, and today was no exception.  While 2028 had its ups and downs, like any other year, David really did think he could say that love was all around in Schitt’s Creek.
Relationships: Johnny Rose/Moira Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose
Comments: 11
Kudos: 38
Collections: Schitt's Creek Holiday Festive Fic Swap 2020





	1. Four weeks until Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Point_of_no_return](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Point_of_no_return/gifts).



> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**David and Patrick’s Cottage, Schitt’s Creek, Four weeks until Christmas, 2028.**

David sat on the couch staring at a blank journal page, trying to decide what to write for their Christmas letter. He thought Christmas letters were tacky, but Patrick insisted they send one with their holiday cards. The extended Brewer clan was big on Christmas letters. They compromised by letting David write the letter, so he could make it *slightly* classier than the typical braggadocio. 

As he tried to figure out what to write about 2028, he found himself pulled into the familiar voice of Hugh Grant on the TV. “Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.”

The opening of Love Actually always made David sentimental, and today was no exception. While 2028 had its ups and downs, like any other year, David really did think he could say that love was all around in Schitt’s Creek.

> Dear friends and family,
> 
> It may seem strange to open a Christmas letter with a funeral, but I can’t write this letter without telling you about our good friend Jocelyn. Jocelyn was the heart of Schitt’s Creek; she took care of everyone around her, even when that meant doling out some tough love. She always had a smile on her face and a kitten on her sweatshirt, even as the chemo took her trademark hairdo. (She did look good in some of my mother’s wigs!) She tragically passed away in November, but her funeral, in Town Hall, was such an example of love, both from Jocelyn, in her instance that the funeral be joyful (including a rendition of ‘Bye Bye Baby’ from the Bay City Rollers), and from the entire town, showing up to support Roland, Mutt and Rollie Jr. It’s moments like this that make me grateful to be part of Schitt’s Creek.

David put his pen down, thinking of Jocelyn and the Schitt’s. Predictably, Roland wasn’t doing well without Jocelyn. He moped around town and looked like he’d lost weight, although David thought that could be from the lack of Dorito casserole and Nanaimo bars. It was possible that the food at Twyla’s Cafe Tropical was actually healthier than some of Jocelyn’s specialties. David shuddered at the thought.

He made a note on a different page of his journal to seek out Rollie Jr this week and check on him. While David was fortunate both of his parents were still living, he thought he understood a little bit of what Rollie Jr might be feeling, missing his mother, having to grow up too fast. Maybe he could help somehow? 

David turned back to the movie as one of his favorite scenes, Peter and Juliet’s wedding, started. Back when they were still crazy rich, he’d taken many notes on this wedding. The men’s tuxes were a little basic for his taste, and their jewel toned shirts were dated, but Kiera Knightly looked fantastic in her long sleeved gown and gorgeous train. However, the surprise serenade, well, that was supreme. It reminded him there was another event he wanted to write about.

> Patrick and I were also grateful to renew our vows for our tenth anniversary this September. We had a lovely, dry, day this time (most of you will remember our 2018 wedding was nearly washed out by a freak derecho.) Our Maid of Honor, Stevie, pulled off an unforgettable surprise for us. Many of you know I’m a big fan of the movie Love Actually; one of my favorite moments is the serenade of ‘All You Need Is Love’ during Juliet and Peter’s wedding scene. Stevie managed to get the whole town to recreate this moment for us. She got the Jazzagirls (including Jocelyn!), the Schitt’s Creek High School band, several of Patrick’s cousins and Twyla’s mother’s boyfriend to surprise us with beautiful versions of ‘All You Need Is Love’ and Tina Turner’s ‘Simply the Best’. I may have cried harder than at our actual wedding! 

David looked up as the door opened and Patrick walked in, shaking slushy snow off his boots. His husband somehow got more handsome with age, and looked particularly cozy in a blue sweater vest over his trademark blue button-up shirt and denim. Patrick threatened to start smoking a pipe, to go with his sweater vests, and David continued to forbid it. 

“Welcome home, honey. How was the town council meeting?” 

“Not too bad. I think Ted is going to be a really good mayor. He’s already hired Alexis to do some PR and marketing for the town,” Patrick replied.

“Hmm. I wonder how the town budget is going to afford that. We can’t even afford my sister,” David groused.

“True. You’ll just have to ask her when she gets in for Christmas.”

“Speaking of Alexis and Christmas, have you heard the new Harry Styles single?”

“You mean “Candy Cane Sugar”, which has played at least once an hour at the store for the last week? Candy cane sugar high, candy cane sugar high,” Patrick sang along.

“That’s the one! Pretty amazing that Ronnie and Alexis were able to whip him into shape and get him back on the charts after the great meltdown of 2023.” David reached his arms out, beckoning his husband to come snuggle on the couch. 

“I still can’t believe Ronnie agreed to manage Harry Styles. Who knew she had musical talents, too.” Patrick ignored the outstretched arms, instead hanging up his coat and bag, and turning toward the kitchen to make tea.

“Who said anything about music? I think she just terrified Harry into behaving well enough to get a new recording contract.” 

Patrick nodded in understanding. Ronnie still slightly terrified him.

“Hey, in other news, did you hear about Bob?” Patrick teased, walking into the kitchen.

“No?”

“Come make tea with me and I’ll tell you,” Patrick cajoled David to join him. 

David groaned as he got up. His knees weren’t getting any younger, that was for sure. He followed Patrick into their newly renovated kitchen. David loved the new beechwood cabinets and speckled quartz countertops. It was more modern than the rest of the cottage, but it worked. Somehow the space felt like both David and Patrick, which was quite a feat. It had taken a while to create a home that felt like them, as a couple, and not a mismatch of David with (some) Patrick sprinkled in. But they had nailed the kitchen.

“So, what’s up with Bob?”

Patrick took a minute to fill the kettle, turn it on, get out the teabags and honey and arrange it all on a tray. David leaned on the island and watched him move efficiently around the kitchen, knowing Patrick was stalling to drag out the tension. Patrick never used the tray unless he was bringing food upstairs.

“Bob is going to Quebec to meet women. He finally realized Gwen isn’t coming back, so he announced he’s quitting Town Council and is leaving for Quebec City in the morning. He thinks French-speaking women will understand romance better than English-speaking women.”

David shook his head in surprise and amusement. “What finally made him realize Gwen isn’t coming back? It’s been at least a decade since she left him for the minister.”

“Apparently she was role-playing a scene with her “cousin” from Elm Grove in the garage when Bob walked in. Also, it turns out her cousin is not actually her cousin, but is one of Bob’s nephews.”

“Eww- naked Gwen cooties? We’re getting the cars fixed in Elmdale from now on,” David declared as he finally slipped his arms around his husband from behind. Patrick turned to face him, finally planting a kiss on David’s lips. David felt some of the tension from the day drain out of his body with just that one kiss.

“On that note, would you care to have tea upstairs, and maybe we can try some automotive role playing as well?” Patrick asked with a wink.

“You do mean mechanic and customer, and not Bob and Gwen, right? Because octgenarian sex is a turn off.”

“I hear your knees crackle. Bob might be more limber than you,” Patrick smirked.

“Get your ass upstairs and I’ll show you what these knees can still do,” David challenged back, lovingly slapping Patrick’s butt as he headed for the stairs.

++++++


	2. Three weeks until Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Cafe Tropical, Schitt’s Creek, Three Weeks until Christmas.**

Twyla set down the lunch special in front of Roland. It was hard to imagine, but Roland looked more disheveled than usual, his flannel shirt sporting unidentifiable stains and his hair drooping into his eyes. His beard was scragglier than Twyla had ever seen it. She wondered if he was going to try for dreadlocks in his beard. One of her mom’s boyfriends had dreadlocked his beard. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad look on that boyfriend. It helped to hide his neck tattoos.

She was thinking about sitting with Roland, to keep him company, when Mrs. Rose entered. She looked fashionable as usual in wide-legged black and charcoal striped pants, a fitted black turtleneck sweater with sequins on the neck and cuffs, and a black wig, streaked with red and purple. Mrs. Rose noticed Roland sitting alone and apparently took pity on him, taking a seat across the table from him. 

Behind the counter, Twyla smiled. She’d watched Roland cry in that booth every day for the last month, and had sat across from him many times, herself. Mrs. Rose wasn’t known for her selflessness, but Twyla wasn’t surprised to catch her showing compassion for Roland. It reminded her of Alexis.

“Dear Roland. How are you fortifing yourself against the onslaught of festive memories?”

“I don’t know what that means, Moira, but I’m worried about Rollie, Jr.”

“Worried? How is the bebe causing distress?”

“Well, he’s locked in his room all of the time. I’m afraid there’s something really wrong, you know. I mean, obviously he misses his Mom, but he might be injecting heroin into his eyeballs for all I know.”

“At the age of eleven?”

“Well, maybe not his eyeballs then.”

“There was always going to be a totally grievous time. Just be imperturbable, he’ll come around. Even David did. Of course he was 34 before he did.” Moria lifted her hand as if she was going to pat Roland’s arm, but then thought better of it, and returned her hand to her lap.

Roland’s breath hitched and he started crying, growing louder and wetter by the minute. Twyla brought coffee for the two of them and Mrs. Rose grimaced at her, as Roland wiped his face on his plaid flannel shirt sleeve. Twyla ran back to the counter and quickly returned with a stack of napkins for Roland, placing them on the table with a pat.

“It’s just such a ridiculous waste. I don’t want it to ruin Rollie’s life as well.”

Mrs. Rose delicately handed Roland a napkin to blow his nose, putting on her most sympathetic face. “No one’s ever going to fornicate with you if you are wailing like this, Roland.”

The new Harry Styles Christmas single, “Candy Cane Sugar”, played and Twyla turned up the radio, hoping to give Roland’s sobbing a little privacy. It just made Roland cry harder. “Jocelyn loved the original song. I can’t believe she never heard it as a Christmas carol.”

+++++

**Jake’s Woodshop, Schitt’s Creek, Three Weeks until Christmas.**

The mid-day sun streamed through the large loft windows at Jake’s woodshop, creating a soft glow over the furniture in progress, bringing out the warmth of the wood.

Jake was leaning against a pillar in the center of the space, comfortable in soft jeans and a loose flannel hanging off his broad shoulders, one button holding the placket together. He observed Judy fluttering around the loft. She looked cozy in her fuzzy sweater and shearling boots, but she seemed a little nervous to Jake. Flustered even. 

He thought about offering her a whiskey to calm her nerves, but he worried that would send the wrong message at 1pm. Not that Jake was opposed to an afternoon whiskey of either sort. Jake smiled to himself, recalling someone referring to an afternoon hookup as an ‘afternoon delight.’ Such a quaint term. He wished he could remember who said it.

Several grips buzzed around, setting up lights and bounces as they prepared to film a scene for Jake’s new movie project, a Christmas-themed adult movie featuring a carpenter teaching a younger woman his trade. Jake’s foray into adult movies had been surprisingly lucrative, Jake exploiting a niche for rural, craft-focused scenarios. 

The director motioned for them to rehearse their scene. Judy put her hands on the workbench and leaned forward. Jake sauntered into place behind her, idly thrusting his hips into her butt, while they set the lighting levels. Someone called out for more lighting gels. 

“We didn’t really get properly introduced. Everyone calls me Jake,” he said as he rubbed up against her.

“Nice to meet you Jake. I’m Judy,” she said a little tentatively, but with a brilliant smile.

Jake smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. He was going to enjoy working on this movie. 

++++++

**Elmdale Civic Hall, Elmdale, Three weeks until Christmas.**

Ted, the newly inaugurated mayor of Schitt’s Creek, joined the other mayors of Elm County at the table. The main conference room in the Elmdale Civic Hall was surprisingly nice, with large windows, and a huge wood table and matching chairs. It was definitely a step up from the Schitt’s Creek Town Hall, which featured a collection of hand-me-down furniture and the smell of stale coffee. Ted was glad he'd worn a blazer to make a good impression. 

“Right, now how do I get a chocolate butter tart and a cup of tea? Isn’t that the perk of being mayor,” he joked.

The others at the table laughed nervously. Everyone understood why Roland had stepped down, to focus on Jocelyn and then Rollie, but Roland had been part of the mayor’s round table for decades. They knew when he was joking (which was most of the time) or when he was serious. The group consensus was that Ted seemed okay, but he sure liked puns. 

“The top item on the agenda is the upcoming visit from the MPPs,” the woman at the head of the table announced. “Their first stop is Schitt’s Creek, because, Ted, they want to see how Schitt’s Creek has revitalized the downtown, with stops at the Rosebud Motel, Rose Apothecary and Cafe Tropical.”

Ted smiled uneasily. “I fear this is going to be a difficult visit.”

The mayor of Elk Grove interjected “We mustn’t allow ourselves to be bullied. This is your first really important test. Let’s take a stand on equitable road repairs and business licensing.”

Ted cleared his throat. How would Roland handle this? Knowing Roland, he would do something crass. That wasn’t Ted’s style, he tended to believe in going along to get along. 

“I understand that, but I’ve decided... not to, not this time. Let’s not forget that they determine our county budget, and I’m new. I don’t want to come across as a petulant kid... of the human or goat variety.”

The rest of the mayors looked disappointed, but moved on to other topics, discussing everything from the Elm Valley Christmas Parade to the budget for a new hockey rink in Elm Glen.

In the car, on the way home, Ted called Alexis.

“Ted! What a surprise! How’s life as mayor?”

“We might have been better off with a horse for mayor. He could just keep saying “Nay”.”

Alexis laughed, which made Ted grin. 

“So how’s New York?”

“Well, I just broke up with Quentin. He said my thighs were getting fat, like tree trunks, so I showed him they were all muscle and kicked him to the curb. Unfortunately the lease was in his name, so I had to move in with a friend and she lives in the dodgy end of Park Slope.”

“There’s a dodgy end of Park Slope?”

“Eww, she’s like, at least two blocks from the park and practically South Slope.”

“You know, being mayor, I could just have Quentin murdered. I think that’s one of the perks.”

“Thanks, Ted. I’ll think about it.”

They ended the call and Ted wistfully watched the rolling hills pass on his way back to Schitt’s Creek. He’d dated plenty of women since returning from the Galapagos, but no one that kept him on his toes the way Alexis did. He missed her.

“Candy Cane Sugar” came on the radio as he pulled into town. Ted laughed at himself. He really couldn’t get away from Alexis, could he?

+++++

**Radio studio, New York City, Three Weeks until Christmas.**

Alexis and Ronnie sat on a cracked vinyl couch in the corner of the sound booth, listening to “Candy Cane Sugar” for what felt like the ten millionth time, waiting for the song to end and Harry’s interview to begin. Alexis twirled a strand of hair around her finger, one of her nervous tells. Ronnie sat, arms crossed, clutching a paper cup of bad bodega coffee.

They made an odd couple, Alexis thought. She was dressed in a soft pink cashmere Diane Von Furstenberg wrap dress and tasteful boots, whereas Ronnie wore black cargo pants and a chambray shirt that Alexis thought was at least ten years old. Or maybe Ronnie just bought the same shirt over and over again when one wore out. That seemed like the sort of practical, no nonsense thing Ronnie would do.

When Harry texted Alexis for help reviving his career, Alexis knew she’d need backup. She vividly remembered partying with Harry in England, before deciding England was too rainy and heading for Capri instead. Harry was fun, but he needed someone to keep him focused. Alexis was going to be busy developing a PR strategy to clean up his image and negotiating a new recording contract, since he’d been dropped from his label during a very public meltdown a few years back. She wouldn’t have time to keep Harry on track, too.

Alexis couldn’t explain why Ronnie popped to mind, but as soon as Alexis thought about it, she knew Ronnie was the right answer. Ronnie drove a hard bargain, but Alexis convinced her to come on board. 

Harry still got regular residuals from One Direction, not to mention licensing deals from his three solo albums. The 2023 Google ad for the mission to Mars, featuring Sign of the Times, was a masterpiece and still drove billions of streaming hits for Harry. Okay, fine, Alexis thought, it was probably the six figure check, plus a share of Harry’s residuals convinced Ronnie, but either way, Alexis brokered the deal and Ronnie was now Harry’s personal manager. 

As it turned out, Harry followed Ronnie around like a duckling followed its mother. Alexis thought Harry appreciated Ronnie’s no nonsense approach. She remembered being rich, and how people would tell you whatever they thought you wanted to hear, instead of the truth. It was nice to know that someone was telling you the truth, even if you didn’t want to hear it. And Ronnie not only told the truth, she didn’t even try to sugar coat it.

“This is awful, isn’t it?” Alexis asked under her breath.

“Yep. It’s crap. But it’s solid gold crap,” Ronnie replied. 

“Do you think this interview is a good idea?”

“No idea,” Ronnie grumbled.

“What’s the worst he could say?” Alexis mused.

Ronnie glared at her over the lip of her coffee cup and lifted an eyebrow, daring Alexis to say something she might regret.

They anxiously watched Harry through the glass window that divided the sound booth from the studio, both hoping to get 60 seconds of usable sound bites out of the pop star.

The final chorus wrapped and the host introduced Harry. “Harry, welcome back to the airwaves, with your new Christmas single.”

“Yes, we changed the word Watermelon to Candy Cane.”

“Is that an important change to you?”

“Not really. Christmas is a time for people with someone they love in their lives. If a ‘Candy Cane Sugar’ high gets the rest of us through the holidays, so be it.”

“You don’t have someone you love in your life?”

“When I was young, I was greedy and foolish, and now I’m left with no one.”

Ronnie jumped up and pounded on the window. The host shot a terrified look at them and quickly steered the conversation back onto safer ground.

“What would it mean to you, Harry, to have ‘Candy Cane Sugar’ top the charts this holiday season?”

“Wouldn’t it be great if number one this Christmas wasn’t some smug teenager, but a middle aged pop star searching for a comeback? So, if you believe in Christmas miracles, buy my record.”

“Thank you, Harry.” The host cut the mic. 

Alexis and Ronnie both exhaled. They hadn’t realized they were holding their breath until the interview ended with minimal carnage.

Ronnie opened the door to the studio and grabbed Harry by the arm. “Okay, pumpkin. Let’s get you out of here.” She firmly steered him out the door.

Harry smiled gratefully and let Ronnie lead him back to his apartment.

+++++

**Hotel Bar, Le Château Frontenac, Quebec City, Three weeks until Christmas.**

Bob sat on the stool in the hotel bar, dressed in his best (fine, only) black suit, sipping a bottle of beer. A string quartet played softly in the background. 

Every night for the last week a lovely Portugese woman, Aurelia, had sat beside him, sipping a glass of wine late into the evening. She dressed in festive holiday sweaters, her brown hair, streaked with grey, swept up into a bun.

The only language they had in common was some halting French, but Bob was sure they had a connection.

He hopes she’ll be at the bar again tonight, so he can ask her to dinner. He nervously peeks at Google Translate again, to try and memorize how to ask her out in Portugese. 

+++++


	3. Two weeks until Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Moira’s Rose’s Garden 4856, Schitt’s Creek, Two Weeks until Christmas.**

“Your mom once asked me to life coach a student of hers that was having a hard time, so I’d like to think she’d trust me with this, too,” David started.

Rollie Jr sat on the edge of the planting bed that made the entirety of Moria’s Rose’s Garden, his back to the dormant foliage. He knew the garden was both serious and funny, but he’d never been able to work out why the adults laughed at it, but also loved it. He also knew the garden was named after the same Moira that he was named after. And he was pretty sure that David was, like, a cousin or something. 

Grown ups were weird. 

“So, your dad’s worried about you. Is it just your mom, or is there something else? School? Are you being bullied? Or is there something worse?” David asked.

Rollie scuffed his black Converse sneakers against the cold dirt on the ground. Ever since his mom had died, all the adults in town were treating him like he might break. It sort of sucked, because he thought he had to look sad all the time, so they didn’t think he didn’t miss his mom. He did miss his mom, every minute of every day. 

“Do you really want to know, even though you won’t be able to do anything to help?”

“Even if that’s the case,” David said.

But.

He was in love. He really didn’t understand how someone could be both sad and ridiculously happy in the same minute. Sometimes even at the exact same time. But he was. 

He looked up. David was just sitting next to him, waiting patiently. Rollie Jr thought David was better than most adults; he didn’t seem to expect anything specific out of Rollie. And David had some cool clothes. The black and silver skull sweater he was wearing was pretty awesome. 

“Well. Okay. The truth is, actually, I’m in love.”

“Sorry?” David shook his head in surprise.

“I know I should be thinking about Mom all the time, and I am. But the truth is, I’m in love. And I was before she died. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

David laughed, which made Rollie mad. Maybe David was like all the other grown-ups.

“I’m a little relieved.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought it would be something worse,” David said.

“Worse than the total agony of being in love?” Rollie asked. 

David considered this for a moment, remembering a very dark week when he and Patrick almost broke up over Patrick’s former fiance. Or the week where an overtired Patrick walked in on David admiring some art photos of nude women, convinced himself David wanted to be with a woman, and started planning their divorce. 

“Hmmm. Good point,” David conceded. “So what does she? He? Feel about you?”

“She doesn’t even know my name. She’s the prettiest girl in school and everyone worships her because she’s heaven. But she’s moving to England at the end of the semester”

“That is bad news. Well, in that case, we need Kate, and we need Leo and we need them now. Come on, let’s go to my house and watch Titanic.”

“Isn’t that an old movie?”

“But a classic. You’ll see.”

+++++

**Place Royale, Quebec City, Two weeks until Christmas.**

Bob and Aurelia walked through the Place Royale, admiring the 17th Century stone buildings, and the upscale shops. Occasionally their hands would brush, sending a surge of warmth through Bob. 

It has taken 30 awkward minutes of Google Translate and bad French to ask Aurelia to walk with him, but she smiled encouragingly as he fumbled with the language. Now they mostly walked in silence. He occasionally commented on the sights in English, and Aurelia replied in Portugese. Despite the lack of a common language, he felt a warm companionship.

They stopped to look in the window of a shop selling handcrafted food and beauty products, which reminded Bob of Rose Apothecary. Bob was overcome with a wave of nostalgia for home. He tried to explain Schitt’s Creek, but couldn’t find the words in French or English to describe how he loved his tiny hamlet.

As they stared into the warmly lit interior of the shop, thunder rolled overhead. They looked at each other, and then looked up at the dark clouds gathering overhead. Simultaneously turning for the hotel, they were halfway across the square when the heavens opened and chilly rain poured forth. Bob wished it was snow. How magical would snow be right now?

They picked up the pace, Bob slowly jogging with his trademark floppy awkwardness. After two blocks they stopped, panting from exertion, laughing because it was obvious they were already drenched through. Aurelia’s soaked silk blouse clung to her ample curves, making Bob feel things he hadn’t felt in years.

Aurelia shivered from the cold and Bob pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her to warm her. They stood on the corner, clinging to each other, laughing in the rain, strangers with umbrellas navigating around them.

Finally, Bob guided Aurelia back to the hotel, where they stood, dripping, in the lobby. In broken French, Aurelia explained that she was returning back to Montreal in the morning. Bob’s heart broke.

+++++

**Jake’s Woodshop, Schitt’s Creek, Two Weeks until Christmas**

The crew buzzed around the loft, setting up the equipment for a new scene. Equipment cases lined the walls, the light stands created a forest of metal in the living area and hair and makeup had overtaken the bathroom. In the center of it all, Jake was calm as always. 

“Can you take your shirts off, so we can set the lighting and camera?” the PA requested.

“Yes, okay,” Judy giggled.

Jake slid his shirt off and placed it on a chair. Judy slipped out of her sweater and put it on top of Jake's shirt.

“Okay, Jake is on the bed, Judy on top of him,” the director indicated with his arm.

Jake relaxed back on his bed and let Judy straddle him. 

“What do you think of our new mayor,” Jake asked, to pass the time while they set the lighting.

“Oh, Ted. I like him. I can’t understand why he’s not married, though,” Judy said.

“You know the type, he’s married to his job. Or still hung up on Alexis Rose,” Jake replied.

“Did you know Alexis well when she lived here?”

“Not really, but I know her brother and his husband pretty well. It seemed better not to get too entangled in family affairs.”

Judy nodded sagely. 

The PA asked Judy to lean down, as if she was going to kiss Jake, and start to thrust, so they could be sure the camera was set. Judy shifted into position and slowly rolled her hips against Jake.

“I have to say Judy, this is a pleasure. It’s so nice to find someone I can actually talk to. It’s usually just sex for me.”

Judy smiled shyly and arched her back for Jake.

+++++

**Rosebud Motel, Schitt’s Creek, Two Weeks until Christmas.**

Stevie sat behind the desk at the Rosebud, having given the regular staff the afternoon off. She wanted the office to herself for a few minutes; it still felt weird having other people behind the desk of the original Rosebud. They had painted and replaced the tired carpet with vinyl wood-like planks in the office, but it still felt much the same as it always had. They marketed the Rosebud chain ironically, but she knew most people liked it because it felt like their parents' or grandparents' homes, unlike the sterile lobbies in the other chain hotels. She flipped her laptop open, planning to work, but getting lost in thought instead.

The door opened and Stevie looked up, ready to greet the guests, but it was Johnny, dapper as always in an immaculate suit. She smiled. It wasn’t often they were actually in the same place at the same time, and she missed him. They needed to visit several properties in Elm County and the surrounding area, so they had both decided to base themselves out of Schitt’s Creek for the whole month of December. Moira, despite some dramatic monologues about missing holiday parties in LA, even seemed excited to be back in town for the holidays.

Johnny lay his hands flat on the front desk and studied his nails for a moment. Stevie could tell Johnny had something on his mind. She was hoping it wasn’t bad news about the plumbing at the motel in Elm Heights. They were getting quotes, but she knew there was potential for something much worse than a new water heater and updating the faucets.

“Oh. Stevie,” Johnny started.

“Hi,” Stevie waited, knowing he’d continue if she gave him time.

“Stevie, how long has it been since you had a real date?”

“Um, Mr. Rose,” Stevie, suddenly flustered, reverted to calling him Mr. Rose

Johnny just looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. Stevie knew she couldn’t get out of this. She mentally calculated the answer, surprising herself with how long it had been.

“Two years, seven months, and about three days I suppose,” Stevie admitted.

“Stevie. You can’t spend your whole life working. I worked long days at Rose Video, and while the money was nice, well, it doesn’t compare to spending time with Moira and the kids.”

Stevie started at her lap. How could she explain to Johnny that she had people she could text to meet her needs in every city in North America, but that the only people she wanted to spend time with, out of bed, were in Schitt’s Creek.

“I thought maybe the time had come to do something about it,” Johnny said.

“Like what?”

“You could invite Ted out on a date,” Johnny said hopefully.

“Nope. No, that won’t be happening, thank you very much,” Stevie shook her head and quickly changed the conversation. “Have you seen the quotes for Elm Heights yet?”

+++++


	4. One and a Half Weeks until Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Rose Apothecary, Schitt’s Creek, One and a half weeks until Christmas.**

David was tweaking the Christmas decorations in the window. He had gone for a spruce and gold concept this year, with fresh evergreen boughs on the shelves, dozens of gold Moravian stars and white twinkle lights hanging from the ceiling. It was just festive enough. Patrick wanted to add pops of red- candy canes, Santa hats on anything remotely head shaped and more- but David held firm as the creative decision maker. His one concession to Patrick was a huge red velvet bow on the wreath on the door.

Rollie Jr came bounding into the store, backpack flapping behind him. David cringed. Rollie Jr was generally less destructive in the store than his father, but the backpack made him nervous. David had witnessed it take out a whole shelf of foot balm before. Fortunately the foot balm was packaged in tins, so the actual damage was minimal.

“I have a plan!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Hmm. Tell me,” David said, skeptically, steering Rollie to a safer space, near the front window. The hand blown glass Christmas ornaments on the center table were just too fragile to survive a Schitt storm.

“Well, girls love musicians, don’t they? Even the really weird ones get girlfriends,” Rollie continued breathlessly.

David nodded slowly, in general agreement.

“If I perform at the Christmas Eve open mic night, and play absolutely superbly, she might fall in love with me. What do you think?”

“Do you play an instrument?” David asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“A tiny, insignificant detail. Patrick can teach me to play guitar, can’t he?”

The curtain separating the stockroom from the store opened, and Patrick stuck his head out upon hearing his name.

“Patrick, would you teach me to play guitar?” Rollie bounced over to the counter, leaning on it and looking at Patrick with heart eyes. David wondered where the kid had picked up that trick.

“Sure, Rollie. But did I hear you want to learn in time for the Christmas Eve open mic?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, then, we’d better get started tonight. Text your dad and see if it’s okay if you come over to our house.”

Rollie whipped out his new iPhone 19 and texted his father.

+++++

**David and Patrick’s Cottage, Schitt’s Creek, One and a half weeks until Christmas.**

“That went better than I expected,” Patrick said, as he walked into the bedroom, having just finished Rollie’s first guitar lesson. He stopped in front of his dresser and took off his watch and wedding ring, putting them in the dish David had given him years ago. 

“How did you get Roland to leave so quickly?” David asked, looking up from the book he was reading, while lounging on the bed in a thick cardigan sweater, his legs snuggled under a furry blanket.

“I told him you had a headache and I needed to go play nursemaid. Unfortunately, I think he took that as an innuendo.” Patrick walked over to the nightstand on his side of the bed, took his phone out of his pocket and plugged it in. 

“That’s disgusting.”

“But is it?” Patrick’s face grew pink as he forged on. Even after 10 years of marriage, Patrick still blushed when talking about sex. David loved it. “You could be my patient tonight.”

“Does that mean you’ll bring me dinner in bed?” David asked hopefully. 

Patrick laughed as he pulled his sweater vest over his head.

“What? I’m hungry. If you want to play, I need sustenance.”

Patrick folded the sweater vest and put it back in his drawer. He started unbuttoning his shirt.

David watched Patrick undress. He was hungry, but if the evening was going in another direction, he certainly wouldn’t mind as long as they could order pizza afterward. Tucking a folded piece of paper into his book to mark his place, he set the book aside and focused all his attention on his disrobing husband.

Patrick finished unbuttoning his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders as he walked toward the closet. He disappeared inside the closet for a moment, presumably to put his shirt in the laundry basket. David waited patiently, still not sure if Patrick was really about to initiate sex, or if he just wanted to change into sweats.

Patrick reappeared in just his undershirt and boxer briefs and headed for the ensuite bathroom. David enjoyed the view of his husband’s perfect ass, flexing with each step in the stretchy cotton. Patrick still liked to hike, and it was evident in his firm glutes and muscular thighs. 

David, growing hopeful, wiggled out of his joggers while staying snuggled under the blanket. He carefully folded them and tucked them behind his pillow, where Patrick wouldn’t see them, so his bare legs would be a surprise, just in case things were going that way. 

The water shut off and a few seconds later, the bathroom door opened. To David’s delight, his naked husband strode out and was at the foot of the bed in a few steps. David felt a warm shimmer in his stomach. While he and Patrick were still plenty attracted to each other, the realities of day-to-day life meant spontaneous sex was less frequent these days. Especially in the evenings, when one of them was likely to fall asleep on the couch; David had a tendency to doze when it was Patrick’s turn to watch sportsball, and Patrick did the same when David was binging reality TV. 

Partick crawled over the trunk at the end of the bed, lifted David’s blanket, and tucked his head under the blanket. David felt, more than heard, the hum of happy surprise when Patrick realized David wasn’t wearing pants. Patrick ran his hands up David’s legs, firmly massaging his muscles as he worked up his shins, around his knees and up his thighs. David contentedly sighed. 

Patrick kept crawling up David’s body until his head reappeared at the top of the blanket. Patrick lay his head on David’s chest, letting his body sink into David’s. David delighted in the solid weight of his husband on him, grounding him to the bed. He felt safe and connected, which might be feelings other people took for granted, but not David. 

David ran his fingers through Patrick’s short hair, tugging lightly, and scratching at the nape of his neck. Patrick made a sound that could only be described as the human equivalent of purring. David lightly massaged Patrick’s shoulders as they lay there, just holding each other.

“If you keep rubbing my head like this, I’m going to fall asleep before we do anything else,” Patrick murmured.

“If you’re that tired, you can go to sleep, but I’m going to go make a sandwich, then.”

Patrick lifted his head and looked at David. He shimmied farther up David’s body, until he could reach his lips for a kiss. “I’m sure you can keep me awake.” he flirted.

David kissed Patrick back, just a soft peck on the lips. “Oh, so that’s how it is. Are you going to blame me when you’re tired tomorrow?”

“Probably,” Patrick teased. “But isn’t it worth it?”

With that, David kissed Patrick with intent, his tongue teasing Patrick’s lips open while his hands tickled down Patrick’s back and over that perfect ass. He kept kissing his husband, enjoying the sensation of their lips and tongues meeting and parting. He could feel both of them growing aroused as he used his knee to spread Patrick’s legs apart. 

Patrick started to grab at David’s sweater, clearly wanting him to remove it. David started to sit up to take his sweater off, and using this leverage, flipped Patrick over onto his back. In a surprisingly smooth move, David straddled Patrick’s hips. 

The shocked smile on Patrick’s face made the twinge in David’s hip totally worth it. He was pretty sure he would regret this when he was on his feet all day tomorrow, but he’d worry about that then.

David quickly shucked his sweater, dropping it behind him, on the trunk at the foot of the bed. Patrick ran his hands down David’s bare chest, tweaking his nipples before following the trail of hair down David’s stomach and tugging at the elastic of David’s underwear. David leaned forward, balancing on his knees and elbows, kissing Patrick, while letting Patrick tug his trunks down to his knees. David lowered himself onto Patrick and while laying on top of him, kicked his trunks off. 

Patrick moaned in happiness when their skin connected and again when David ground his hips into Patrick’s. David slipped his hand between them and grabbed both of their firming erections.

“Is this okay for tonight,” David whispered in Patrick’s ear, in between sucking on his jaw and nipping at his ear. 

“God, David, yes,” Patrick sighed.

David used his other hand to hold part of his weight off Patrick, giving him just enough space to stroke their engorged penises. Patrick ran his hands up and down David’s sides, drawing goosebumps from David’s flesh.

The two men rocked rhythmically together. David loved these moments, where their two bodies moved as one, melding together, unclear where one man started and the other stopped. He could lose himself in the rhythm and sensation of skin on skin. Time stretched and compressed and before David was ready, Patrick was about to come. David slid down and took his husband in his mouth, as Patrick came, calling David’s name. 

After a moment, a practically boneless Patrick made an attempt to reach for David, but David flopped on his back next to Patrick and quickly finished off by himself. In a well-practiced maneuver, Patrick handed David tissues to wipe his hands, so David could roll over and pull Patrick into spoons; David holding Patrick from behind, softly kissing the back of his neck, pressing their skin together, refusing to let go of their connection.

David must have dozed off like that, because the next thing he knew, he was waking up, still naked, with the furry blanket tucked around him. Lifting his head off the pillow, he looked around for his husband, surprised when he heard the front door close and footsteps in the front hall. David rolled onto his back and stretched, hearing his neck crack, preparing to go get up and meet Patrick downstairs, but before he could sit up, Patrick opened the bedroom door, pizza in hand. David knew that was true love.

+++++


	5. One Week until Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Jake’s Workshop, Schitt’s Creek. One week until Christmas.**

Jake stood, naked, in front of the work bench, looking down at Judy, on her knees simulating felatio. Jake felt a fleeting twinge of shyness about being naked with Judy. What was going on? He never felt shy with women. Or men, for that matter. 

“Look, I normally don’t do this, but you don’t want to go get a Christmas drink or something? We could go see something, um, Christmassy?” Jake asked, his rambling question highlighting his nerves. Crap, Judy would never want to go out with him now.

Wait, he just asked Judy on a date. A real date, to see something Christmassy, not just a sex date. What was he doing?

Judy continued silently bobbing as the grips set the camera angles for the scene. 

Jake wasn’t sure what to think about her silence. Maybe Judy wasn’t into him? Were there women who weren’t into him? “Obviously, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“No, I’d love to,” Judy finally responded.

Jake felt a thrill rush through him.

+++++

**Rose Apothecary, Schitt’s Creek, One week until Christmas.**

Alexis worked her way around the main table, touching every bottle and sampling all the new products as she went. 

Alexis always looked nice, but Patrick thought she looked particularly nice today, in a simple black sheath dress under a winter-white wool blazer with (what looked like) one of Moira’s brooches on the lapel. She was wearing darker lipstick these days, Patrick would describe it as wine, but he was sure David would have a more accurate name for it. Either way, the lipstick emphasized the fierce business woman she’d become. Patrick smiled, remembering studying together for her business classes at Elmdale College and was impressed with how far she’d come.

David, on the other hand, huffed in displeasure as his sister disrupted his carefully arranged displays. David also looked especially nice today, in slim black trousers that shimmered dark blue in the right light and a black crew neck sweater. Patrick wondered if he should have worn his blazer for the MPP’s, instead of his standard sweater vest and dark jeans. 

Patrick watched David grow increasingly tense over Alexis’ product sampling and decided to intervene, before David lost his mind.

“Alexis, the MPP’s will be here soon. The store has to look good, for Ted. He said it’s very important to make a good impression so they will support investment into Schitt’s Creek and Elm County,” Patrick said diplomatically.

“I know, David,” Alexis ignored Patrick and stared at her brother. “I’m the one in charge of the PR for this. Anyway, I’m just checking out the new holiday products, like any other customer. It’s like you still don’t trust me. That sink incident was 11 years ago,” Alexis pouted.

“And Ronnie still barely talks to Patrick over it,” David threw back at her.

“That wasn't my fault,” Alexis insisted.

“Well, then, whose fault was it?” David snapped.

The bell on the door rang, and several people in business attire and sensible boots walked into the store. Patrick knew they must be the MPP’s.

“Welcome to Rose Apothecary,” he said, walking over to greet them, hand outstretched. 

Several of the MPP’s shook Patrick’s hand and he introduced them to David and Alexis. One of the MPP’s, with silver hair, looked Alexis up and down like a starving man looking at a steak. Patrick wanted to pull him aside, tell him to keep his hands off his sister, but he knew Alexis could handle herself.

Patrick started talking business. “Rose Apothecary sources all of its products from within Elm County, providing a stable year round market for many local farms and businesses. Supporting Schitt’s Creek is supporting the entire county. In fact, our online ordering option provides revenue from out of the county as well…”

Ted entered. Patrick saw Alexis’ face light up, and instantly realized why Alexis looked so nice today. 

“Enough from me, here’s our new mayor, Ted,” Patrick motioned to Ted and stepped back behind the counter.

“Take your time, look around the store. I’m sure Patrick and David would be happy to answer any questions,” Ted said, restraining himself from using any obvious puns.

David took over, showing the visitors different products, describing the different vendors and how they created the products. He demonstrated the body milk, still their best seller after 12 years in business, and consulted on skin care with the two female MPPs in the group. Patrick watched his husband charm the MPPs into purchases. Every visitor left with a Rose Apothecary tote full of Christmas presents.

The door swung shut behind the last MPP, and David walked over, wrapped his arms around Patrick’s neck and kissed him, hard. Alexis disappeared into the back of the store, either to purloin a bottle of wine, or to give them privacy. At that moment, Patrick was happy to write off the wine to have a moment with his husband.

“Thank you, my brilliant business-minded husband. You still make everything okay,” David murmured into Patricks ear, as he nuzzled Patrick’s jaw, dropping soft kisses on his neck.

“Hmm. I’m happy I can do that for you. What do you say we let Alexis run the store for a few minutes and go get lunch?”

“How about we let her run the store while we get lunch and bring it back. How much trouble can she get into in ten minutes?” David countered.

“Okay. I’ll talk to Alexis if you can grab our scarves.”

+++++

**Twyla’s Cafe Tropical, Schitt’s Creek, One week until Christmas.**

Ted and the MPP’s walked across the street to the Cafe. Ted hoped they noticed the potholes cratering the street, visual evidence supporting their request for additional funds.

The lead MPP started in. “I don’t think we can support the additional funding for road repair or the new business licensing options for rural business.”

“That is unexpected,” Ted replied.

“Well, it shouldn’t be. The last administration made it clear that business licensing needs to maintain the same standards across Ontario, we’re just being consistent with their policies.”

Ted sighed. “Well that is disappointing.” Then, with a smile Ted continued “Welcome to Twyla’s Cafe Tropical. Today’s special is meatloaf.”

Twyla greeted the party at the door and showed them to the table she’d set in the middle of the cafe. 

They sat around the table, idling chatting about the upcoming holiday. One of the MPP’s had disappeared. Ted thought maybe he was still at the store, until Ted saw Patrick and David come in to pick up lunch and called them over.

“Who’s minding the store?” he asked.

“Alexis convinced me she could handle the cash while we got lunch. She’s still trying to make up for the sink incident,” David said.

“Oh! That reminds me… Excuse me, I need to run over and tell Alexis something. I’ll be right back,” Ted said, turning on his heel and jogging across the street to the Apothecary.

+++++

**Rose Apothecary, Schitt’s Creek, One week until Christmas.**

Ted entered the store and saw the silver haired MPP put his hand on Alexis’ rear and lean in to try and kiss her. He lunged for the guy, but Alexis had already stomped on his foot and pushed the MPP backward, into the display of blown-glass Christmas ornaments.

For a brief moment, everything stood still, then suddenly, there was an explosion of glass and a heavy thud as the MPP hit the ground. 

Ted’s stomach sank. The MPP thing was a problem, but how were they going to explain the broken glass to David? 

Alexis helped the man to stand, gave him a quick once over and when she didn’t see any blood, brushed the glass off his coat and said “You had better be going.”

The MPP shot a look at Ted. Ted shrugged and held the door open for him. The MPP growled as he left and headed across the street to join the others at the Cafe.

“Alexis! Are you okay?”

“Eww, I’m fine Ted. That was nothing. Do you remember when Jared Kushener tried to slip his hand up my dress at the Met Gala in 2024? I couldn’t believe he and Ivanka were even invited, but the chair said it would be rude to not invite Ivanka since she was running for president. Anyway, that was way grosser than some old man squeezing my ass.”

“Alexis, you threw him across the room!”

“So? I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ve done way worse.”

Ted shook his head and laughed. “Alexis. I love you.”

Alexis booped him on the nose. 

“Come on, we have to “break” the news to David and Patrick. I don’t think David’s going to take it well, he brought up the sink again just before I came over here,” Ted said.

“Ugh. That was like a million years ago. I bet he and Patrick have had sex on it dozens of times since then.”

+++++

**Town Hall, Schitt’s Creek, One week until Christmas.**

There was quite a crowd gathered for the press conference. Ted, the MPP’s and the current Schitt’s Creek council members, Patrick, Eric and Darlene, were all in attendance, arranged behind the podium at the front of the room. Several of the other Elm County mayors had carpooled over, to be the first to hear the announcements, and reporters from the Elmdale Chronicle and the Elm Hollow Herald were there, hoping for an interesting scoop. Roland was there, as mayor emeritus, still wearing the town chain. Ted didn’t have the heart to ask him to surrender it. David and Alexis snuck in the back, just as the conference was getting started.

Ted took the podium, and the reporter from the Elmdale Chronicle started the questions with a softball. “Mr. Milette, has it been a good visit?

The silver haired MPP stepped to the mic. “Very satisfactory indeed. We saw what we came for, and Schitt’s Creek appears to be thriving without needing additional support from Parliament.”

Ted looked up and saw Alexis at the back of the room. Anger surged in his veins and he stepped forward with a new resolve. 

“Pleasantries like that cover all manner of sins. The MPP’s think they can treat Schitt’s Creek and Elm County like dependent provinces, where they can take what they want, while ignoring all those things that really matter to Elm County.

“We may be a rural county, but we’re a great one, too. Where businesses start and can thrive. Where people take care of each other. If our members of parliament take our taxes, and give us nothing in return, then we’ll have to be much stronger in the future and vote for better representation.”

The crowd in Town Hall was silent. The mayors of Elm County looked at each other in surprise.

“I’m Ted Mullins and I’m running for Parliament.”

Town Hall erupted in cheers. The MPP’s were stunned. 

Ted walked towards the door, mobbed by friends, reporters and well wishers.

+++++

**Ted’s House, Schitt’s Creek, One week until Christmas**

Ted, slightly drunk after multiple toasts to his new campaign at the Wobbly Elm, loosened his tie and flicked open his Spotify.

He knew he’d been reckless today, announcing a surprise campaign. He wasn’t one for living dangerously, he was more into respecting his personal boundaries. 

But that guy, that dirty old politician, had tried to take advantage of Alexis. Not that Alexis couldn’t handle herself. Well, she might need help smoothing things over with David. David had been livid at the damage, once he was certain Alexis was okay. 

Alexis shouldn’t have to handle herself, though. What if that guy had manhandled Twyla? Or Stevie? Or Gwen? Okay, fine. The women of Schitt’s Creek were strong. That MPP hadn’t stood a chance.

Ted clicked on ‘Candy Cane Sugar’, thinking of Alexis and how she could conquer anything. He turned up the volume and danced around the apartment, lip syncing to Harry Styles, knowing this was another thing Alexis had made possible.

He skated across the kitchen in his socks, shredding his air guitar. He headbanged through the living room, finally ending the bedroom where he slid to his knees, breathless as the song ended, wishing Alexis was there with him.

+++++


	6. Five Days Until Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Twyla’s Cafe Tropical, Schitt’s Creek, Five days until Christmas.**

Bob sat in the booth closest the window pulled out his iPad and headphones. 

Twyla brought him his usual decaf and oatmeal. Bob was talking into his iPad, at first Twyla thought he was speaking French, which was unusual, but most people in Schitt’s Creek could speak some French. But as she set his breakfast down, she realized he wasn’t speaking French. Spanish, maybe?

She waited for Bob to look up and acknowledge his breakfast, but he kept repeating the same word. Twyla thought maybe he had dementia. One of her aunts had dementia, and would just repeat words or names over and over again. Usually swear words. ‘Jesus H. Christ’ was one of her aunt’s favorite repeated epithets.

Finally, Bob looked up.

“What do you have there, Bob?”

“Eu estou com uma terrível dor de estômago.” 

“Your stomach is terrible?”

Bob took his headphones off. “Yes. No, my stomach is fine, but I think that’s what I just said in Portuguese.”

“Portuguese?”

Bob abruptly stood up. “I have to go, Twyla.”

“But you just got back.”

“Sorry, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

Twyla watched Bob jog out of the Cafe and over to the garage where he got in his car, pulled out of the parking lot and turned left towards the highway to Elmdale.

Twyla hummed “Candy Cane Sugar” to herself, as she wiped down Bob’s table and took his uneaten breakfast back to the kitchen.

+++++

**Room 7, Schitt’s Creek Motel, Schitt’s Creek, Five days until Christmas**

“Stevie, do you have the numbers for the Edmonton area? I want to highlight them in the annual investor letter,” Johnny called to Stevie, who was working in the attached room. Stevie had reserved both rooms for the Roses for all of December. Alexis was staying at the cottage, but it felt wrong to not have both adjoining rooms for the Roses when they were in town. 

“I just emailed them to you,” Stevie called back.

Johnny stared at the laptop. “Um, Stevie. Which one is email?”

“I’ll be right there, Mr. Rose.”

Stevie sauntered into the room, leaned over Johnny’s shoulder and clicked on the email icon. Johnny looked up at his business partner.

“Stevie. Any progress with our matchmaking plan?

“Okay, we don’t need to talk about this.”

“I just want you to be happy, Stevie. Work is not not a good companion when you get old.”

Stevie was relieved when the door flung open and Moria sauntered in, fashionably dressed in thigh-high, kitten heeled boots and a fuzzy black and white dress, topped with a festive tinsel wig. Stevie thought the dress looked like a sweater mated with an ostrich, but she was willing to bet the dress was worth more than her car, and she’d upgraded to a nice SUV a few years ago. 

“John, I require your assistance with procuring our yuletide offerings.”

“Coming, Moira, just let me finish…”

Stevie shut the laptop. “Go do your Christmas shopping.”

Moira gracefully turned and swanned out of the room in a flounce of feathers and perfume. Johnny turned to Stevie. 

“What do you want for Christmas this year, Stevie. You know I’m terrible at picking out gifts, but what do you need?”

“All I need for Christmas is a case of wine, but David and Patrick usually get me that. How about something I don’t need. Something pretty?”

“Right. Right,” Johnny said on his way out the door.

+++++

**Winner’s, Elmdale Square Shopping Centre, Five days until Christmas.**

Johnny and Moira were blasted with overheated air and Christmas carols as they entered Winner’s, the best department store in Elmdale. Most of the holiday gifts had been ordered and shipped ahead, but Johnny still needed to pick up a few things. 

Moira was quickly distracted by the discount designer sweaters. In the years after they’d lost their fortune, she’d become adept at finding bargains that she could accessorize and work into her wardrobe. Even now that they had sufficient money for luxuries and she received designer samples, she still liked the challenge of finding a special bargain.

Johnny pulled his post-it note from his pocket and looked at the short list of names. Stevie was at the top of the list. Johnny knew his gift selections were a favorite family joke. He’d really thought David would enjoy a basketball court. How was he supposed to know David hated sports?

Johnny thought about Stevie. He wanted to get her something nice, but she hadn’t given him any hints. She really kept the Rosebud chain running. Johnny had been slowly stepping back, although he couldn’t bring himself to fully retire. He liked working, meeting people, representing the motels. He thought it kept him young. Well, younger.

Stevie. He wanted to get something nice for Stevie. A sweater? Did she wear sweaters? He couldn’t really remember her wearing a sweater. Makeup was out. He’d once gotten her a makeup set, and that hadn’t gone over very well. He looked around the store, hoping for inspiration. Something plaid? She wore a lot of plaid.

“Johnny Rose!” a familiar voice rang out.

Johnny looked around and saw Ray Butani behind the jewelry counter. “Ray! What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few extra hours for the holidays. Between you and me, the employee discount makes it worth it.”

“Well, I’m looking for something for Stevie. Any suggestions?”

“Looking for anything in particular?”

Johnny looked down at the display and pointed at a gold locket with a red ruby set in it. He thought it would look very pretty against Stevie’s business suits. 

“That necklace there, how much is it?”

“It’s $270 CAD,” Ray said. 

“Oh, alright. I’ll have it,” Johnny decided.

“Lovely! Would you like it gift wrapped?”

“Yes,” Johnny slowly nodded.

“Let me just pop it in the box,” Ray nestled the necklace in a box with a flourish.

“I’m sort of in a hurry, Ray. Moira is looking at sweaters. Can this be quick?”

“Certainly! It’ll be ready in the flashiest of flashes,” Ray said while tying a gold ribbon around the white box.

“That’s great, Ray.” Johnny reached out for the wrapped package.

“Oh, I’m not finished yet,” Ray said as he whipped a clear gift bag out.

“I don’t need a bag, I can just put it in my pocket. You know how much trouble Moira can get into in the clothing department.”

“Oh, this isn’t a bag. This is so much more than a bag.” Ray placed the box in the bag and started adding springs of spruce to the bag.

Johnny raised an eyebrow as Ray then brought out candy canes and a mortar and pestle. He started crushing the candy into dust, sprinkling the peppermint essence into the bag.

“Almost finished,” Ray exclaimed.

“What’s next? Are you going to dip it in chocolate?” Johnny asked, exasperatedly. 

“Oh no, we’re going to pop it in a Christmas box!”

“I don’t need a Christmas box,” Johnny protested.

“Well, then there just is one final step,” Ray said while brandishing a cinnamon stick.

“No, no, no cinnamon,” Johnny insisted as Moira walked up with a shopping bag swinging from her arm.

“Loitering around the jewelry counter?” Moira sang out.

Johnny raised his eyebrows at Ray, as if to say, ‘I told you so’, and turned and slipped his arm through Moira’s. “No, I was just looking around.”

“Good, my expectations are such that nothing in this store could possibly meet them,” Moira said, as they walked off to the appliance section, in search of an air fryer for Patrick.

+++++

**David and Patrick’s Cottage, Schitt’s Creek, Five days until Christmas.**

David thought he deserved a medal for the past week, or at the very least, an excellent blow job from his husband. 

He was stuck sitting at the kitchen island, listening to Roland reminisce about all the places he and Jocelyn had sex outdoors in Schitt’s Creek. David didn’t see the romance of getting half naked in the dirt, where there could be bugs and other disgusting things when he had a very nice bed with excellent sheets at home, but it sounded like it worked for Roland. David would say there was no accounting for taste, but it was clear Roland had no taste, whatsoever.

Patrick and Rollie had been practicing guitar together every night for the past week. Most nights Roland followed Rollie over and stayed at the cottage, requiring David to play host as Roland reminisced about Jocelyn. 

So far, Roland had described his and Jocelyn’s favorite role plays- David wasn’t sure he could ever watch The Devil Wears Prada again-, provided a multi-faceted ranking of her kitten sweatshirts and, worst of all, detailed the subliminal meanings of Jocelyn’s cooking- apparently Dorito casserole meant she was pregnant, Sloppy Jocelyn’s meant the company was like family, and fondue was an invitation to swing. David nearly tossed his cookies at the fondue, since he was pretty sure that’s what the Schitt’s served his parents at their first dinner together, shortly after arriving in Schitt’s Creek.

As Roland talked and David cringed, Patrick patiently taught Rollie how to play ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’. David wasn’t thrilled to have one of his favorite Christmas songs co-opted by a Schitt, but it sounded surprisingly good. Rollie might have some musical talent. 

David was drawn back to the present when Roland started to cry again.

“And then there was that time, down by the creek when we…”

“Mmmm, Roland, that memory might be better kept to yourself. Something special just for you to remember.”

“But Dave, you and Patrick really should-”

“No thanks, Roland. We’re good. Really.”

“Dave. You have to work at keeping the romance alive. Like the time-”

“Thanks, but we’re really fine. We should go see how Patrick and Rollie are coming along,” David said while standing and heading for the living room. 

He really couldn’t take any more discussion of Roland and sex. Relationship and sex advice from Roland was an absolute mood killer. David just wanted to take a long, scalding hot shower to try and wipe the images from his brain. And then cash in on that blow job from his husband.

+++++


	7. Three Days Until Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Room 7, Schitt’s Creek Motel, Schitt’s Creek, Three days until Christmas.**

“Joooohhhhnnn,” Moira called out. “Have you seen Barbara?”

Moira knelt on the floor, still in her pajamas and vest, tearing through several suitcases, looking for Barbara, her tinsel Christmas wig. Shoes, jewelry and sweaters flew through the air, landing on the table and vanity as she frantically searched for the wig she wanted. 

Exhausting the suitcases, she started digging through the dresser drawers, rumpling Johnny’s nightshirt and socks. Still not finding her wig, she turned to the closet. 

“Joooohhhhnn?” she called again. She thought Johnny was just in the other room, working on the laptop, but he wasn’t answering. Moira briefly thought about going to check on him, but she focused on finding her wig. The room wasn’t that large, Barbara had to be here somewhere.

She rifled through Johnny’s suits, feeling something unexpectedly hard in the pocket. Moira reached in and found a box from Winner’s. Smiling to herself, she slid the ribbon to the side and peeked inside the box.

It was a gold locket with a small ruby inlay. She was tickled at the surprise gift. After 49 years as Mrs. Johnny Rose, she was intimately familiar with her husband’s uncouth gift giving skills. She still remembered the second Christmas in Schitt’s Creek, when he gave her what appeared to be unexploded WW2 ordnance. She would never wear the necklace, of course. It was way too young for her, and she hadn’t worn yellow gold since the 1980’s. She knew it had become trendy again, but platinum went better with her signature black and white aesthetic. 

She could give it to Alexis, it reminded her of the tacky locket from Ted that she still wore. This might be an upgrade. She was pretty sure this locket was at least 18k gold.

Despite the fact she’d never wear it, she was touched that Johnny still wanted to get her jewelry. And a heart no less. 

Moira tucked the locket back into the suit pocket, and went in search of Johnny so he could help her search for Barbara, mindlessly humming ‘Candy Cane Sugar’ under her breath.

++++++

**David and Patrick’s Cottage, Schitt’s Creek, Three days until Christmas.**

Alexis was out with Tywla, leaving Patrick and David alone in the house for one last night of quiet before all the family events started. A fire crackled in the fireplace while David set up the Hallmark Channel app so he and Patrick could snuggle on the couch, eating dinner and watching cheesy Christmas movies all evening. David had already changed into his coziest cashmere joggers and softest sweatshirt. He could hear Patrick in the kitchen, warming up dinner, when the doorbell rang.

David answered the door, surprised to find Stevie standing on the porch, shivering in a flannel shirt and jeans. David didn’t understand her reluctance to wear a coat if it was above freezing, even if only by a degree.

“Stevie!” David lit up.

Stevie held a finger up to her lips, signalling for him to be quiet.

“David?” Patrick called out from the kitchen. 

David looked quizzically at Stevie. She nodded. 

“It’s Stevie, Patrick.”

“Tell her to come in. We have plenty for dinner,” Patrick yelled.

Stevie held up a poster board that said ‘Maybe next year, I’ll be bringing him to Christmas.’

She dropped the poster, revealing another one with pictures of Idris Elba and Bradley Cooper. David chuckled.

Looking David in the eyes, she flipped to the next poster. ‘But for this year, let me say..’

‘I can’t imagine anyone that makes me feel more at home.’ She flipped another poster.

‘Than you and Patrick.’ David’s eyes were suspiciously damp.

‘Maybe because it’s Christmas’ the next poster read.

‘Or maybe because it’s my midlife crisis’ David started to laugh and ended up snorting back the tears as Stevie dropped the next poster. 

‘And I’m still incapable of speaking with sincerity.”

‘But for some reason, I needed to tell you this.’ Stevie dropped the last poster and turned to walk away.

David ran after her, grabbed her shoulders, turned her to face him. David looked at Stevie, and she looked back. He leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. It was just a moment, but he felt as if years passed between them.

“Come on in and have dinner. And stay the night, if you can,” David invited her.

Stevie shook her head no. 

“Stevie. You belong here with us. We wouldn’t be us without you.” David took Stevie’s hand and pulled her into the house. 

“Patrick?” David called.

“Yeah?”

“Can you open a bottle of the good wine? I think we need it tonight.”

Patrick walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “What’s up?”

“I think Stevie might be up for a proposal,” David looked knowingly at Patrick. 

Patrick smiled broadly. “I’ll get the wine.”

David led Stevie to the couch and they snuggled in with a blanket. Patrick brought out three wine glasses and a bottle of wine. He handed out the glasses, poured the wine, and sat on the other side of Stevie.

Patrick started, “I know you’ve turned down a similar proposal in the past, but I’m not Jake.”

Stevie looked at Patrick, then at David and bit her lip. Were they really about to propose a throuple?

“And, well, I’m still David.”

“Does this mean I get the family discount on wine?” Stevie asked with a smile and they all dissolved into laughter.

+++++

**The Schitt’s House, Schitt's Creek, Three Days until Christmas.**

Rollie Jr and Roland sat in the family room recliners, eating frozen pot pies from metal trays in their laps. The cozy cluttered visage of the Schitt house had given way to bachelor pad detritus. Piles of (Rollie hoped) clean, but unfolded, laundry covered the couch, piles of dirty dishes were stacked in the sink and more piles of leftover medical paperwork covered the dining room table. 

Rollie knew he should do more to help his dad out, but he wasn’t really sure where to start. He was pretty impressed he’d managed to heat the frozen dinners and wash the laundry. And the growing beer can pyramid was actually sort of cool. When other people had died in Schitt’s Creek, his mom had organized the meal trains and generally taken care of the lost souls. It seemed that everyone had forgotten that, and left the remaining Schitt’s to their own devices. 

Rollie missed his mom, but suddenly realized his Dad must really miss her, too.

“Dad?”

“Son?” Roland retorted.

“I feel bad. You’ve been taking me for guitar lessons every night, and I never asked how your love life is going?”

“Ha, ha. That was a done deal a long time ago. Your mother was the only one for me,” Roland said. “Unless, of course, Reese Witherspoon calls. Then you’re on your own.”

“Why?” Rollie Jr asked, slightly concerned that he’d have to go live in the barn with his brother.

“We’ll want to have sex in every room, including yours.”

Rollie rolled his eyes. No wonder they’d been watching so many Reese Witherspoon movies. His dad really liked to dress up like characters from movies. He could only imagine his dad in a pink suit, dressing up like Legally Blonde. Rollie thought it was sort of weird, but then again, who in Schitt’s Creek wasn’t a little weird?

+++++


	8. Christmas Eve (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**David and Patrick’s Cottage, Schitt’s Creek, Christmas Eve.**

Their whole family- Roses, Brewers and Stevie- gathered for Christmas Eve dinner, before the now traditional open-mic night at the Apothecary. 

David looked around the table and felt content. The house looked great, decked out in garlands and vintage glass ornaments. His husband refilled wine glasses with a smile and a ridiculous reindeer headband while Stevie laughed at Alexis’ latest story about the Harry Styles Christmas press junket. Marcy and Clint looked adorable, holding hands in their matching Christmas sweaters, and his parents lovingly bickered over which Christmas was the one where Hillary and Meryl hung out under the mistletoe for longer than necessary. 

Clint and Alexis had helped David with the last minute holiday rush at the store while Patrick and Marcy spent the afternoon preparing ham, sweet potatoes, and just because it was David’s favorite side, potato salad. Everyone was stuffed, yet the table was somehow still full of food- Marcy Brewer wasn’t one to let family go hungry. 

David clapped his hands and suggested they move to the living room to open a present before the Open Mic at the Apothecary. As the family ambled across the hall to the living room, David slipped his arm around his husband’s waist and softly kissed him on the cheek. Patrick leaned into his side for a moment, enjoying a brief moment of connection in the middle of the holiday chaos.

Opening one present apiece on Christmas Eve was a Brewer family tradition that had become a favorite Rose-Brewer tradition, too. The Brewers always gave Patrick and Daivd matching Christmas pajamas. The first few years after they were married, the pajamas had actually been tasteful, as if Marcy was trying to find something David would actually choose to wear. David actually did like the black and white buffalo check flannel pants from those years. But now, it appeared that the goal was to find the tackiest adult pajamas possible. 

David and Patrick sat on the floor, by the tree to hand out the gifts. Johnny and Moira took the couch and Clint and Marcy sat on the blue-grey velvet bergere chairs that flanked the fireplace. Alexis perched on the arm of the couch; David wanted to say something about respecting the furniture, but given what he and Patrick had done on that couch, he thought better of it. No need to discuss the details of their sex life on Christmas Eve. Stevie stood behind the couch for a minute, then joined them on the floor. David thought she felt more like an official family member than ever before. 

Patrick went first, unwrapping his box and lifting the lid to reveal a blue onesie with a Christmas light pattern. David groaned, but was inwardly relieved they weren’t worse until Marcy let out a giggle. Patrick looked up at his mom, saw the smile on her face, and felt around in the box until he found something hard. David recognized it as a battery pack, even before Patrick found the switch- they were light up Christmas pajamas. He was sure there was a similar set in his box and that he would have to wear them in the morning. The things he did for love.

Marcy unwrapped a new red and green plaid robe, and Clint opened new slippers. Stevie and Alexis both received fuzzy Christmas socks, complete with pom-pom trim, and Johnny opened a new nightshirt that came with a matching Santa nightcap. David wondered what the market was for old fashioned nightshirts, and why, given all the other options for sleepwear, they continued to make them.

Finally Johnny passed Moira a small package, wrapped with a gold ribbon. Moira clapped her hands together and reached out for the box. She tore off the ribbon and opened the box, revealing a blu-ray of the 2019 Joni Mitchell tribute concert. David could tell his mother was trying to smile, but her face was contorting into more of a shocked ‘Oh’.

“I know how much you love Joni Mitchell,” Johnny said.

David jumped in, so his mother could save face. “Okay, well, we have to get ready for the Open Mic. Everyone grab your coats and meet back here in a minute.

Moira headed for the office, and David followed, having a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. His dad was known for giving awkward gifts, but this seemed like something else.

He peeked in the door she left slightly ajar and watched his mom stifle a scream with her fist. She pushed a pile of papers off the corner of Patrick’s desk and leaned against it. David waited a moment and then lightly knocked on the door.

“Mom?”

Moira looked up with a sorrowful expression.

“It’s just been a long day, David,” she said, more subdued than usual.

“You know Dad is terrible at picking out gifts. You can’t read anything into a DVD.”

“You won’t believe this, David, but I came across a locket that your father bought for another paramour.”

“Okaaay?”

“I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it,” Moira started to spiral up. “For your father to be buying baubles for another hussy.”

David was struck silent. There probably was a logical explanation, but obviously his mother was upset. On the other hand, they couldn’t be late to open the store, so with a deep breath he plowed on.

“Well, if there’s a logical explanation, can you get your coat before we are late to our Open Mic night?”

Moira allowed David to take her elbow and guide her to the front door. As they joined the family gathering in the foyer, the doorbell rang.

Patrick answered the door to find Ted standing on the front porch. The family chatter halted as they recognized Ted.

“Hi,” Ted said. “Is Alexis here?”

“David, where did you put my coat?” Alexis asked as she started down the steps. The whole family turned to look at her, gorgeous in her fitted red mini-dress.

“Oh,” softly escaped from Alexis’ lips, as she descended far enough to see Ted standing there, looking handsome in a wool coat. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Ted said. Everyone turned back to look at Ted, but neither Ted nor Alexis noticed anyone else. A current of hope passed between them.

“Unfortunately, we’re on our way to the Open Mic night,” Alexis recovered a bit. 

“Did you need something, Ted?” Johnny intervened.

“I just needed Alexis for, um, some important town council business,” Ted stammered.

“Right. Of Course. Well, maybe you should meet us there, Alexis,” Johnny interjected.

Alexis took a deep breath. “No, I’m sure it will be fine”

“Why don’t I give you a lift, and we can talk about this business in the car?” Ted suggested.

Alexis nodded her agreement. 

The family buzzed back into motion, David bustling everyone out the door and into the cars for the trip to the Apothecary.

+++++++

**Ted’s Car, Schitt’s Creek, Christmas Eve.**

Ted held the passenger door open for Alexis, as she slid into his sensible Honda Accord. He nearly bounded over to the driver’s side, still full of nervous energy and an earlier pep talk from Twyla.

Ted twisted in his seat to face Alexis. “Alexis. I just want to say…”

“Shh. Ted. You don’t have to say anything.” Alexis held a finger to his lips.

“But I want to. Alexis, I think about you all the time. When I saw that MPP put his hand on you the other day…”

“You know I can take care of myself, Ted.”

Ted slowly backed down the driveway and turned toward town center.

“I know, but you shouldn’t have to. Alexis, I know it’s been a long time, but now that we live on the same continent...”

“Ted.”

“I don’t want you to give up Interflix, or Harry Styles, or…” Ted nervously plowed on through the speech he’d mentally rehearsed.

“Ted. Do you know how many men I’ve dated in New York?”

“I’m not sure I want to know, Alexis,” Ted answered slowly.

“Hundreds. Including all three Hemsworth brothers. But Ted, none of them were you.”

Ted felt his heart leap in his chest as they pulled into a parking spot in front of the cafe.

“Come on, we can sneak in the back door and avoid my family’s commentary,” Alexis giggled and opened her car door. 

Ted swung his door open and excitedly started to get out, when he was caught by his seatbelt. Taking a second to untangle himself, he unbuckled and tried again, catching up to Alexis halfway across the street.

Noiselessly laughing, like kids sneaking Christmas cookies from the kitchen, they snuck in the backdoor of the apothecary, hiding behind the Christmas backdrop Clint had helped David hang earlier that afternoon.

+++++

**Rose Apothecary, Schitt’s Creek, Christmas Eve.**

The Christmas Eve Open Mic night had become a Schitt’s Creek tradition on par with Asbestos Fest. Patrick had cajoled David into trying it eight years ago. David had reluctantly agreed, after their previous attempts at starting a family Christmas tradition hadn’t gone well. 

The first Christmas after they were married, they tried taking the whole family to Midnight Mass in Elmdale, per Brewer family tradition. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived in Elmdale, Moira had consumed her weight in eggnog and was positive the priest needed her assistance on the altar. Johnny kept tugging her back down into the pew, until he finally got distracted by the missal, and started asking Marcy a bunch of questions about Catholicism. Moira escaped and created a massive scene. Fortunately, most people were forgiving, it being Christmas and all. Still, David never, ever wanted to hear O Come, O Come Emmanuel again.

For their second Christmas, they tried hosting an Open House at the Cottage. David had decorated for the holidays with cream cable knit throws, tartan ribbons and gold glitter bottle brush trees. He’d carefully curated the menu to reduce the possibility of stains, just in case someone (ehm, Roland) spilled food or drink. All of their friends had stopped by, and most of their closest friends were still there when Alexis finally blew into town with Henrik Lundqvist and half of the New York Rangers hockey team in tow. Suddenly, David’s tasteful evening turned into a backyard keg party and hockey tournament with snow being tracked all over the house. David was so furious he refused to talk to Alexis until February, and it took most of the year before he fully thawed to his sister. Patrick, on the other hand, still secretly rooted for the Rangers unless they were playing the Maple Leafs. 

So, for their third Christmas, Patrick had pitched a Christmas Eve Open Mic. He said it would be like combining the Open House with Christmas Carols, and worst case, people would track snow in the store, not the cottage. As a bonus, the store’s floor was varnished with polyurethane, so most things mopped up pretty easily. David finally relented, but now, seven years later, it had become one of his favorite parts of the holiday season. 

David stood at the door welcoming everyone in. The store filled with family, friends and the smell of spiced cider as Patrick did a last minute sound check. David was surprised to see Jake come in with a pretty woman who appeared to be his date. These sort of events weren’t usually Jake’s scene, Jake generally preferred events with less clothing and more whiskey.

At 8pm, Patrick took the stage to kick off the evening with a cringy version of Jingle Bell Rock. David was learning to pick his battles, and his ever earnest husband loved Christmas songs, so he didn’t even complain about Jingle Bell Rock anymore. 

He was followed by multiple performances, Twyla sang a lovely version of White Christmas, Ray performed a hula dance to Mele Kalikimaka and the Jazzagirls, with guest appearances from Moira and Marcy, sang several traditional carols. 

David was surprised when Patrick took the stage again, until he saw Rollie Jr following Patrick onstage. He hadn’t realized they were performing together, but he was glad Rollie would have some support up there. 

“I would like to dedicate this song to a very special someone in my life,” Patrick nodded to David, standing in front of the counter. “David Rose, there he is.”

Patrick introduced his song that way every time he played at an Open Mic night, and it still tickled David.

“And I would like to dedicate this song to my mom,” Rollie Jr added, stepping to the front of the stage and starting to strum the chords for “All I Want For Christmas Is You.”

Rollie had a surprisingly strong voice, belting the first verse in his boy’s alto. Patrick, Tywla and several Jazzagirls joined in with the chorus. The rest of the Jazzagirls produced tambourines from somewhere, keeping beat with the singers. David hadn’t realized the extent of this production, but was delighted to see the smile on Rollie Jr’s face as the backup singers joined in. The energy was infectious and soon the whole audience was on their feet, dancing and singing along. This, friends and family singing and laughing, is what Christmas was all about, in David’s opinion. 

David felt a cold rush of air as Rollie was singing the last few lines of the song directly to a cute girl in the audience. David figured that must be the girl Rollie had a crush on, but was distracted by the commotion at the door, before he could observe more.

A wave of murmur crashed through the crowd until everyone turned towards the door to find Ronnie and a friend, bundled in peacoats, scarves and hats. 

“What are you looking at?” Ronnie growled. 

A jolt of recognition ran through David. Harry Styles was standing in his store. With Ronnie. Ronnie brought Harry Styles to Schitt’s Creek? David had witnessed a lot of things he’d once thought were fantasies, his marriage to Patrick chief among them. But this was next level. 

Old habits die hard, and David quickly scanned the street outside the store, looking for paparazzi, but everything seemed quiet. 

Harry removed his hat and scarf and smiled at the town. David took a step toward the door, to re-introduce himself. It had been almost 15 years since they’d met during Harry’s fling with Alexis. Ronnie caught his eye and imperceptibly shook her head, so David stepped back.   
Ronnie left Harry standing by the door and budged her way to the front of the store, grabbing Patricks arm, pulling him down to whisper something in his ear. Patrick nodded and stepped up to the mic.

“It looks like we have one last performance for tonight, and it’s a special one,” Patrick announced. “Please welcome the one and only Harry Styles to Rose Apothecary!”

The crowd vigorously clapped, the older crowd clapping as much for Ronnie and Patrick as for Harry. Some of the younger generation whooped and whistled. 

Harry dropped his coat on a chair to reveal a ruffled tartan blouse, shot through with silver threads, over a pair of flowing hunter-green high-waisted pants and stepped up on stage. David admired the outfit. A star-struck Rollie Jr offered up his guitar and Harry gently took it from him, slipped the strap over his head, and shook Rollie’s hand.

Patrick, standing behind Harry, started strumming the chords of Candy Cane Sugar and nodded at Twyla, who joined him with the tambourine. Harry started to sing. 

The audience was still, absorbing the performance. David had never heard Watermelon Sugar or Candy Cane Sugar sung with such a wistful, acoustic air. He knew they were witnessing something special. Ronnie must have known it, too. She was recording the performance on her phone.

Harry wrapped the song with a final ‘Candy Cane Sugar’ and the Apothecary was silent for a beat. 

Patrick took a step back on the tiny stage, to put the focus on Harry, but accidentally caught his foot in the backdrop, starting a chain reaction of destruction, just as the audience recovered and started cheering for Harry. 

The audience appreciation covered most of the crashing sounds, as the backdrop, supporting pipes and Patrick all came tumbling down, revealing Ted and Alexis locked in a passionate embrace. The applause turned into laughter and wolf whistles and then back into applause as the entire town celebrated what appeared to be a reunited Ted and Alexis.

Harry, started by the crashing and unexpected audience reaction, stepped off the stage and made his way back to Ronnie’s side.

Ted and Alexis, now the focus of attention, briefly froze in place before Alexis’ PR training kicked in and she turned to the audience and waved. A rush of warmth filled David, watching his sister’s face glow from love. Ted was good for her. Part of David was surprised it took so long for them to get back together, but at the same time, this felt right for them. And really, Ted and Alexis causing destruction at the Apothecary was also on brand for them. He hoped the sink was still on the wall this time.

David realized Patrick was still on the ground, tangled in the backdrop and that jolted him into action, pushing his way through the excited crowd to be sure his husband was okay. David couldn’t help laughing when he saw the disgusted look on Patrick’s face. The disgusted look signalled that Patrick’s pride was the only casualty of the fall. Patrick liked to be in control, and he was clearly upset to be embarrassed and on the ground. For that, David hoped Ronnie stopped recording before everything fell apart. Although, watching the backdrop fall and reveal Ted and Alexis might just go viral on it’s own. 

David gently helped untangle Patrick and Stevie came over to help. Well, she handed Patrick a flask of what David assumed was whiskey while stifling laughter. He supposed that counted as help, given the situation.

By the time Patrick was back on his feet and the backdrop was bundled out of the way, Alexis had taken charge of Harry and was organizing a meet and greet. Ronnie watched from the front of the store, tapping on her phone. David assumed she was uploading the video of Candy Cane Sugar, knowing that the emotional performance would cement Harry’s rehabbed reputation and likely launch the next phase of his career. He hoped Ronnie tagged Rose Apothecary; it was sure to bring in massive sales since all the teenagers that loved Harry in the late ‘teens were now adults with disposable income. 

David knew this would be a night the whole town would remember for years to come. He looked around at the smiles on everyone’s faces, felt the electric excitement of having been a part of something special and listened to the laughter that filled the store. As he looked around, he saw Rollie, clearly overwhelmed and overshadowed by the events of the evening. Roland was wrapped up in a throng of Jazzagirls, and Oh. My. God. Was one of the Jazzagirls actually flirting with Roland?

David shelved that thought and made his way over to Rollie Jr, just standing beside him. Rollie leaned into David’s side, watching the crowd but not saying anything.

“Nice job. That was a fantastic performance,” David said.

“Thanks. It didn’t work, though,” Rollie said quietly.

David was feeling all the holiday cheer. He nudged Rollie. ”Tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“Tell her that you love her.”

“No way. Anyway, she’s leaving.”

David turned to face Rollie, bending his knees to look at him eye-to-eye. “Rollie, you’ve got nothing to lose. You’ll always regret it if you don’t.”

Rollie thought about it for a moment and then shrugged. “Okay, fine. Let’s go get the shit kicked out of us by love.”

David grinned. “Let’s go find her.” Rollie grabbed David’s hand as David pulled them through the crowd and out onto the street. David caught Patrick’s eye as he was on the way out the door and Patrick nodded knowingly. Patrick could handle the register while David and Rollie went on their mission. 

+++++

**Moira’s Rose’s Garden 4856, Schitt’s Creek, Christmas Eve.**

Moira, uncharacteristically subdued despite the holiday melee in the Apothecary, stepped outside for some air. Johnny, attuned as always to his wife’s moods, followed.

“Tell me, if you were in my position, what would you do?” Moira asked Johnny, whipping around to face him.

“What position is that?” Johnny carefully inquired, knowing Moira was upset but having missed the instigating event.

“Imagine your husband bought a gold pendant, and come Christmas Eve, gave it to someone else?”

Johnny stared blankly at Moira.

“Would you linger to ascertain if it’s just a bauble, or if it’s copulation and a trinket, or worse, if it’s a bibelot and love?” Moira asked with an accusation in her voice.

“Moria, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Why is there a locket hiding in your closet?” Moira wailed.

“Oh. Moira. It’s for someone who is very important to me,” Johnny relaxed, suddenly understanding what this was about.

Moira’s eyes widened as she crossed her arms across her chest, preparing for the worst. “Who is this woman?”

“Moira,” Johnny said patiently. “The locket is for Stevie. She deserves something nice for Christmas. The locket reminded me of the one Alexis wears, so I thought Stevie might like it.”

“Stevie?” Moira eyed Johnny skeptically.

“Yes, Stevie. I know better than to try and buy you jewelry by now.”

Moira softened. Johnny had listened to her on the jewelry front, although perhaps she should have made it clear he shouldn't be purchasing jewelry for any woman. Moira couldn’t imagine Stevie wearing the delicate gold locket, but perhaps it really was the cogitation that bears the import.

Johnny slipped his arm around Moira’s to squire her back to the Apothecary, when David and Rollie Jr burst out the doors. They stopped to watch the drama unfolding in the street.

+++++

**Main Street, Schitt’s Creek, Christmas Eve.**

“You check by the cafe, I’ll check by Bob’s Garage,” David directed. Apparently word was getting out about Harry Styles being at the Apothecary and people were starting to gather in the street. 

David speed walked across the street, looking for a family with a cute eleven year old girl. He spotted a group of people at the far end of Bob’s Garage, but it turned out to be Ray and his extended family.

David turned back to the Apothecary, and caught sight of Rollie, slumping back from the Cafe. He quickly caught up with the boy. 

“They just pulled out, I couldn’t get her in time,” Rollie said, dejected. “Twyla said they were headed for Elmdale airport for a flight to Toronto, because they have an early flight to England in the morning.”

“Okay. We’ll go to the airport. Patrick taught me a shortcut to Elmdale. Just give me a second.” David stuck his head in the door of the Apothecary, sure they were exceeding any possible legal capacity limits. Patrick looked up from the cash and David announced they were going to the airport.

Ronnie took a deep breath and whistled, bringing the whole room to silence. “Everybody outside. Rollie Jr needs us.”

Patrick assured his parents they would meet them back at the cottage and ran out the door to catch up with David and Rollie.

+++++


	9. Christmas Eve (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**David and Patrick’s Car, Elmdale Airport, Christmas Eve.**

For the first time ever, David was actually grateful for the minivan Patrick insisted on purchasing. Patrick said he wanted the minivan for vendor pick ups and hauling other stuff. David had gone through a whole anxiety spiral, afraid a minivan was a trojan horse for adopting a kid, and that maybe minivans even came with the baby pre-installed, but Patrick held true to his promise that David was enough for him. Either way, a minivan was just incorrect. However, it was working out tonight as they crammed David, Patrick, Rollie, Roland, Twyla, Stevie, Moira and Johnny into the vehicle for the trip to Elmdale.

David made good time on the back roads to Elmdale, but it had taken longer than necessary to pack half of Schitt’s Creek into the van. He took the final corner into the airport at speed, eliciting a “Whoa, nelly” from Roland in the backseat. David grimaced, but reminded himself this was about Rollie, not Roland.

They screeched to a halt in front of the terminal, which fortunately, was tiny. It shouldn’t be an issue to find the girl and her family. David slammed the gear shift into park and jumped out of the car, leaving the driver's side door hanging open.

“Come on, Rollie,” he yelled, arms flailing in excitement.

Rollie clambered out of the van and the two ran into the terminal, stopping in their tracks when it was obvious the check-in desk was empty. David, having flown in and out of Elmdale multiple times, grabbed Rollie’s hand and headed for the security area. They didn’t have tickets, but maybe they could talk the guard into letting Rollie though?

Twyla, Stevie and Roland tumbled out of the van and trailed David and Rollie into the airport, while Patrick took the driver’s seat and pulled into short term parking, rather than letting the minivan be towed on Christmas Eve, with Moira and Johnny still in it. Patrick thought Moira was too alert to have taken her Christmas pills yet, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

Back at the security gate, the CATSA screeners were all watching the local news. Since the group left Schitt’s Creek, the local CBC news affiliate had gotten wind of Harry Styles’ performance at Rose Apothecary and were now reporting live from Main Street. It looked like more and more people had gathered on Main Street in Schitt’s Creek in the 45 minutes they’d been gone. The news cut away to a clip of Harry performing Candy Cane Sugar in New York last week.

Rollie stepped up to the magnetometer and walked through, like he belonged there. David was so proud of him. For being Roland’s son, Rollie Jr had a very adult demeanor. David supposed that’s what happened when your father was a perpetual child. David held his breath, thinking for a moment that Rollie was going to get away with it, when the alarm went off. 

Patrick, Moria and Johnny caught up with the group at the same time the passengers from the arriving flight were coming down the hallway toward them. The whole group was shocked to see Bob, with a lovely woman on his arm, walking towards them. 

Evaluating the growing crowd, the noise from the alarm and the general mayhem, David made a split second decision. He leaned in and whispered in his mother’s ear. If anyone knew how to create a distraction, it was Moira Rose. 

Exactly what happened next would be a matter of debate for years to come. 

David looked at Rollie Jr, who was as still as a statue, just on the other side of the clanging security scanner. One of the security guards moved towards Rollie and David nodded at him. Rollie Jr took off running for the gates, chased by two CATSA agents.

In the meantime, Moira turned on the histrionics, howling about something involving a locket Johnny bought for another woman, while Twyla and Roland descended on Bob and his new paramour. Stevie was filming the whole event on her phone, with a smirk on her face and Patrick, overwhelmed by the chaos, just leaned against a cement pillar and took in the scene.

The next thing David knew for sure was that Alexis was being interviewed on TV and Rollie Jr was being frog marched back to the security gate with a huge grin on his face. 

Fortunately for everyone, Johnny stepped up and smoothed things over with the CATSA agents before anyone was actually arrested. His tailored suit and grey hair gave him an air of authority that he knew how to work to his advantage. David thought he heard Johnny promise an autographed Harry Styles photo as part of the negotiations, but that seemed like a small price to pay to avoid being arrested on Christmas Eve.

Bob, confused, but not surprised, by the commotion, assumed they were all there to welcome him and Aurelia home. He cleared his throat, to get everyone’s attention, but that didn’t make a dent in the hubbub around them. He tried again, this time Twyla noticed and joined him in gathering everyone’s attention. Twyla’s years at Cafe Tropical meant she was surprisingly effective at controlling unruly customers, and she quickly had everyone focused on Bob, who was attempting to get down on one knee. 

Patrick, ever the Boy Scout, helped Bob to the floor. Bob, in halting French mixed with a little Portuguese, introduced Aurelia to his family, gesturing to the whole group of Schitt’s Creekers gathered around. Aurelia smiled and nodded and in slow but clear English, thanked everyone for coming to meet them at the airport.

And then, surprising everyone, Bob spoke in a patchwork combination of English, French and Portuguese.

“I know this seems crazy, because I barely know you, but it seems so clear to me,” Bob stammered through his clearly prepared speech. 

“I don’t expect you to say yes, but, Aurelia, will you marry me?”

There was an expectant pause. Twyla clasped her hands and bounced on the balls of her feet in anticipation. Everyone was focused on Aurelia. 

“Thank you. That will be nice. Yes, is my answer,” Aurelia replied in her accented English.

Everyone in the terminal clapped and Patrick and Roland tried to pull Bob back up to standing. Finally, Bob was back on his feet, and the entire assemblage shuffled to baggage claim. As they waited for Aurelia’s luggage, the familiar strains of Candy Cane Sugar came on the TV. CNN had picked up the local CBC feed of Harry Styles performing Candy Cane Sugar on the stoop of Rose Apothecary, with Alexis, Ted and Ronnie standing right behind him.

As Harry wrapped up another performance of his breakaway Christmas hit, the TV cut back to the CNN anchor, announcing that Harry’s single had just topped the Billboard, Spotify, Apple Music and HyprVrl charts for all pop music for the week. 

David wrapped his arms around Patrick from behind, reveling in the Christmas spirit and the love that really was all around them.

+++++

**David and Patrick’s Cottage, Schitt’s Creek, Very Early Christmas Morning.**

It was after midnight when they pulled into the driveway at the cottage, after dropping Bob and Aurelia off. They were welcomed by the flicker of paper bag luminaries Marcy must have put out. 

The entire gang tiredly exited the minivan and started up the front walk, when Marcy opened the door to welcome everyone home. As they stepped inside, the smell of coffee and warm pie was intoxicating. Ted and Alexis were already sitting by the fireplace and Ronnie walked out of the kitchen, with Harry Styles following on her heels, as the late arrivals removed their coats. Coffee was poured and pie distributed as everyone, by unspoken agreement, settled into the living room. 

“Well, that was quite an exciting evening,” Marcy started, clearly hoping to hear more about the airport visit.

“Yeah, Rollie, we never did hear what happened past the security gate,” Roland added, feeling proud of his son, yet melancholy that Jocelyn wasn’t here to watch him grow into a man.

Rollie took a deep breath. “Well, I just ran down the hallway until it dead ended into a big room, and there she was, getting ready to board the plane. I called her name and she turned around and smiled at me.” Rollie smiled at the memory.

Everyone waited expectantly.

“She got out of line and ran over and asked me what I was doing there. And I just told her that I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye,” Rollie said simply. 

Alexis cooed. Ronnie gave her a look that clearly said to zip it, so as not to interrupt the rest of the story.

“And then she kissed me!” Rollie triumphantly announced.

Everyone clapped. Roland ruffled Rollie’s hair.

David interrupted, “And?”

“And then the security guy caught up with me and grabbed my arm and dragged me back to you.”

Marcy laughed. “That’s quite a story. How did you end up inside security to begin with?”

The room filled with chatter, as everyone tried to explain their version of events at once. The group finally got out the basics of the story- the security gate, Rollie running, Moira’s distraction and Bob’s engagement. Clint caught Patrick’s eye and Patrick just shrugged. Over the years, his parents had grown accustomed to Rose family stories, but they didn’t often get to witness the stories in person.

Alexis piped up. “Well, as much fun as you had at the Elmdale Airport, you missed the real fun here.”

“Um, yeah. We saw the Apothecary on CNN, and now Harry Styles is in my living room. How did that happen?” David asked, winking at Harry. Patrick tightened his grip on David’s hand in response.

Ronnie started, “I tweeted a link to the video of the open mic and geotagged the Apothecary. Everything else just happened.” She shrugged and turned back to her pie.

“Well, I might have tagged one of David’s ex’s in my retweet,” Alexis said mischievously. Stevie choked on her pie. 

“You did not tag Anderson Cooper,” David asked with an edge in his voice.

“No one cares, David. Anderson Cooper is ancient history.”

“Eat holly, Alexis.”

“Kids, not tonight, it’s Christmas,” Johnny intervened before the sibling bickering could escalate.

“Anyway, as the crowds started gathering, I knew we couldn’t all fit in the Apothecary,” Ronnie rolled her eyes and David remembered Ronnie clearing out the store as they were headed to the airport.

“But with so many people in town, just for a glimpse of Harry, I knew we had to do something, so we decided to bring the mic and speakers out on the front step of the store.”

“And Harry just happened to perform for Elm County and a strategically placed TV truck?” David said sarcastically. Alexis glared at him, but Ted rubbed her arm and she settled back into her seat.

“So Harry,” Patrick started. “How did you end up spending Christmas Eve in Schitt’s Creek?”

“Well, with the Christmas single doing so well, I had plenty of invitations, but honestly, the one person I really wanted to spend Christmas with, is, well, Ronnie.”

Patrick blushed. 

“It’s not like that, Brewer,” Ronnie interjected. “We’re just friends.”

“Ronnie promised me a quiet, old fashioned Christmas,” Harry finished.

Clint laughed. “There’s no such thing as a quiet Christmas with the Roses.”

David looked around the room, softly lit from the fireplace and the white lights on the tree. Rollie Jr was yawning and leaning against his dad, who was sitting in one of the armchairs flanking the fireplace. Ted and Alexis were somehow both pretzeled into the other armchair, Ted’s arm wrapped around Alexis’ waist, Alexis toying with Ted’s hair. Marcy and Clint were holding hands on the piano bench, still in their matching Christmas sweaters. David was a little sorry they hadn’t changed into their matching Christmas robes before everyone else got home. Johnny looked like he was nodding off on the couch, Moira resting her hand on his thigh as she sipped her coffee. Twyla sat next to Moira on the couch, her legs tucked up under her. 

Ronnie had brought two dining room chairs into the living room for her and Harry. David was still a little shocked to realize Harry Styles was in his living room, but mostly he was shocked that Harry was there with Ronnie, and not Alexis. And last, but most certainly not least, Patrick was sitting on the floor in front of the Christmans tree, Stevie laying on the floor next to him, her head in Patrick’s lap, Patrick lazily scratching her head, the same way he scratched David’s head when they were home alone. 

David knew this might be the best night of his life. It wasn’t lost on him that his parents and the Brewers were getting older and might not be there forever. But for tonight, everyone he loved was in his living room, creating memories that would last a lifetime.

+++++


	10. Epilogue: Six Weeks After Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Supporting Character Death Referenced
> 
> My apologies to Harry Styles. This character has nothing to do with the real person, other than I wanted to turn Watermelon Sugar into a Christmas song.
> 
> +++++

**Twyla’s Cafe Tropical, Schitt’s Creek, February 2029.**

David and Patrick shared their favorite booth, eating breakfast before starting their day at the Apothecary. It had been a crazy month since Christmas, with all the publicity from the surprise Harry Styles performance, and they were only now getting back to a remotely normal schedule.

The door opened and David looked up to see Jake walk into the cafe with the pretty blonde woman he’d brought to the Apothecary at Christmas. David nudged Patrick’s foot under the table so Patrick would look up and see for himself, but that turned out to be unnecessary as Jake stopped at their booth to introduce his fiance, Judy. David nearly spit out his coffee at ‘fiance.’ Jake was literally the last person David ever pictured getting married. David and Patrick wished them well and then shared a shocked look that promised they would dissect that announcement at the Apothecary, post-haste. 

Roland and Rollie Jr entered the cafe and took their now-customary seats at the counter. On Christmas Eve, Rollie had confided to Twyla that neither he nor Roland really knew how to cook, and Twyla had encouraged him to bring Roland to the cafe for breakfast every day. In the meantime, Twyla had discreetly organized a steady stream of casseroles and stews for the Schitt’s, to get them through the winter. Twyla said she might try to teach Rollie to cook some basic meals over the summer, agreeing that getting Roland to cook was probably a lost cause. 

Rollie stopped by David and Patrick’s table to arrange his next guitar lesson with Patrick. Much to David’s amusement, Rollie’s first open mic experience was transformative and Rollie now wanted to be a pop star. In addition to guitar lessons with Patrick, Rollie had charmed Harry Styles into giving him regular voice and songwriting lessons over Zoom. The Schitt genetics continually amazed David, how both Mutt and Rollie could fall so far from Roland’s tree. Jocelyn’s genes must have been powerful.

Ted stopped in the cafe for a coffee on his way to Town Hall. Roland congratulated Ted on finally securing the funds to repair the potholes in Main Street. Ted graciously said that it was a town effort, driven by the publicity and subsequent tourism from Harry Styles’ Christmas Eve performance, and without Ronnie, Alexis, the Apothecary and all of Roland’s ground work, it would never have been possible. David wasn’t looking forward to the disruption of road repairs in the spring, but he knew it would benefit the Apothecary in the long run. And save money on suspension repair.

Ted waved at his brothers-in-law-to-be. Once Ted and Alexis reunited at Christmas, they wasted no time deciding to make it permanent. Ted proposed on New Years Eve, using a terrible pun about how Alexis was mer-maid to be with him and a beautiful ring with three diamonds, to symbolize their third attempt at a lasting relationship. David had been enlisted as chief wedding planner and was already pricing tents, just in case it rained.

David was mopping up the remaining syrup on his plate with the last bite of pancake when Stevie slipped into the booth next to Patrick. David’s face lit up, excited to see his best friend. He was still a little disappointed that Stevie had turned down their proposal for a throuple, but was grateful they could all laugh about it now. Waking up between Patrick and Stevie was still one of David’s favorite things in the whole world, feeling safe and sandwiched with love, but then again, he got to snuggle between them for wine and movie night whenever Stevie was in town. Anyway, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure he had the stamina to have sex with more than one person at a time anymore. And, if he had to choose one person, he would one hundred percent pick Patrick everytime. 

Stevie stole the last piece of bacon off David’s plate. He harrumphed at her. Bacon had become a rare treat with Patrick trying to make him eat healthier. Something about cholesterol and blood pressure that David tried to ignore as much as possible. 

“You know it’s your parent’s 50th anniversary this summer, right?” Stevie asked.

“I mean, now that you say it, I suppose I do,” David replied. 

“And you should probably do something for them,” Stevie continued.

“We could have a party at the cottage,” Patrick suggested.

“Or we could do something in LA,” David said, hopefully. As much as David truly loved Schitt’s Creek, he also enjoyed the luxuries of larger cities. Especially Postmates. Ray had tried to start a Postmates-like delivery service, but the distance from Schitt’s Creek to literally any restaurant other than the Cafe made it impractical. 

“Fifty years in love is a big deal,” Patrick said.

David thought about his parents and their marriage, and the fifty years he hoped to have with Patrick. He’d had some lonely, rough years in his teens and twenties, but looking around the cafe, filled with people he loved, he could see that love actually was all around, if you just knew how to see it.


End file.
